


ERROR404

by DISCHORDIA



Category: Twenty One Pilots
Genre: Angst, Dark, Depression, Horror, M/M, Mystery, Self-Harm, shit just happens, this was planned to be scary but i'm not sure
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-07
Updated: 2017-04-07
Packaged: 2018-10-16 02:44:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,759
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10562091
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DISCHORDIA/pseuds/DISCHORDIA
Summary: Tyler kills Josh every night in his dreams and it's fine until he starts having gaps in memory.Then his webcam records something very interesting...





	

Tyler is having dreams about killing Josh. Every night. Probably for a month.

Maybe two.

There are a lot of scenes and pictures. There are a lot of things that doesn’t make any sense.

He cuts Josh to death, he sees Josh hanging himself, he stabs Josh at the back and his hands are blodyblodybloodered. This is the smallest part of all shit that is happening.

Knives, razor blades, lilac veins on his skin as crispy branches, screaming, almost howling.

Pain, blood, Tyler’s guilt and more blood. Gosh, you should probably see all the mess his brain has made.

Or you shouldn’t.

Yeah, kid, you better not to watch. Or read about it. Or whatever you do. It’s just for Tyler.

And not for Josh.

Because you can’t tell somebody that every night you kill that person. Especially, if this person is your friend-boyfriend-family-whatever-he-is.

Joshie is his no-definition-of-home, so Tyler keeps being silent. His whole world is silent, thought J must have figured it out, right?

Why?

Well, every morning Tyler is pretty fucked up.

When they’re eating cereals, watching X-Files or playing video games. Or making out. The fear is always there, flying around their head and wrapping their brains and hands and stuff. It’s awful… to fear, ugh, _something_ which is you don’t know even what.

If it makes any sense.

So, Tyler’s dreams become a world to torture Josh and, of course, things between them are not quiet good.

‘Are we—‘

‘What?’

‘I’m just wondering if we’re alright,’ he’s slicing the bread for dinner. It’s damn good with milk and chips, you know.

Tyler waits. And waits. And waitswaitswaits.

‘Um, I think so,’ chop-chop. ‘I mean, yes. I guess so.’

‘That’s good,’ there is wide sugar smile on Joshie’s lips and for God’s sake! ‘I just thought you were acting… a bit strange.’

I definitely did, Tyler thinks. I slit your wrist today and you blood was black with bright yellow.

‘Gosh, Joshie, I’m fine,’ Tyler plays cool. As usual. Fake it till you make it. And there goes the best moment to change the subject, ‘How’s Ashley? Anything new from her editor?’

Chips taste good: savory and rigit. Josh’s body feels warm, touching Tyler’s ankle with dry skin.

  
‘Completely fine. She says he did like it. Maybe poetry will be published at the end of the year.’

He’s eating, Josh, his eyes are glowing like street lights from horror movies and Tyler curls near his side, nose into the dirt green shirt with a giant **BEST ALIEN IN THE WORLD** in the front.

They are eating. Having dinner. Preparing for night. It is fine.

AndTylerdoesntthinkaboutrottenmeatinsideJoshshead. No way.

Flashes from TV, silence, darkness, it’s all mixed up in one chaos.

‘Do you want to fuck?’ and more crumbs on Josh’s jeans.

Tyler remembers how he raped Josh three days ago and then dismembered his corpse.

Tyler says, ‘I’d be happy to.’

  
**I.**

‘I can’t believe it. Just—‘

‘Just what?’

Josh blinks, turning his head. Staring at the ceiling. Watching scratches in the corners. Thinking.

Thinking too much.

‘This is bullshit, Tyler. People have no aura or how does this thing called?’

‘Karma.’

‘Yeah, that crap. We are meet each other, love each other, hate each other and destroy each other. Accidentally,’ Tyler frowns. ‘I mean not ‘cause we don’t want to or something. Sometimes we do. We just…’

They are lying on the floor. And Josh has just finished his coffee, which Tyler calls _dirty water_. And it’s sunset. And Josh’s mum is dead.

He isn’t crying — talking mostly — and Tyler is concerned. He really is, brushing thin baby hairs on Josh’s forehead. He tries to distract Joshie from his mother. He distracts himself.

‘People must have like a plan or concept. When we are born. Since that moment life gets us involved.’

Yup, spiritual shit was his best choice.

‘There is no plan, no,’ Josh stutters. ‘No anything. We’re trying to handle the task and die as soon as possible.’

‘Wait, did you just say as soon as—‘

‘Yeah. Why?’

Tyler shrugs, ‘Don’t know. Always thought people try to live as long as possible. My point is, I disagree.’

Josh turns his face and hessmillingsmillingsmilling. Like a psycho.

‘My mum had a sister, ya’ know. Older one, as long as I remember. So she hadn’t been very beautiful or smart or hot. Neither of these criteria. And she was bullied at school. Like seriously, not just hearing some dumb nickname once.’

Tyler shivers, knowing exactly what’s going to happen next.

‘She was senior when her dad found her dead at the garage: she was swinging on a wire. Back and forth. And the funeral, fake sympathy and such kind of shit,’ Josh scratches his elbow. ‘All these jerks got nothing. The ones from school. And my mum since childhood was expecting to die young, you see? She like thought all children die when they become teenagers. So stupid, ha? And see how many years over the teen age she lived, ’ he bursts out laughing and tears are strumming down his cheeks.

Little Waterfall Of The Martyr Joshie.

‘Man, I still believe we all have purpose here and we should—‘

‘Do you want to tell my aunt’s purpose was to shit her pants while choking?’ maybe this is fury in his features, his eyes, his smile. Tyler couldn’t tell even if he tried for ages.

‘No, I meant—‘

‘Well, maybe this is how it is. You must be right. Sometimes I want to kill myself so badly, I even…’ Josh barely whispers, just his lips movements and somehow they are enough for Tyler. ‘I feel like I’m in need and I’m too scared. So I want you to do it. Like… often. I picture it all the time.’

Tyler nods.  
Tyler shakes his thumb when relief is crawling between his rib cage.

‘Don’t call me nuts or something.’

‘I don’t, Joshie.’

‘Really?’

‘Nope, I don’t.’

Fine. It is fine. Maybe Tyler is sane and Josh needs it; and this sort of link them in a cosmic, crazy way.

Tyler’s killing Josh. Josh’s in need to be killed.

It is fine.

Well, probably not. But not so scary, at least.

‘I need to call Ashley.’

‘Yeah, go.’

When the door slams Tyler mumbles backandforthbackandforthbackandforth.

**II.**

People talk a lot. Especially in colleges. There are rumors, conversations, laughter. More shit.

Tyler is getting used to it. He thinks he is doing great.

In fact, he is not.

Tyler is an artist, has been drawing for the last tree years, and he is awful, you see.

'Man, this looks like a dick," this is not a dick actually.

'This is an elephant!' Tyler protests. He's preparing this picture for one of classes at school. For children.

There is a smirk on plump lips. Tyler wants to kiss him, all covered with watercolor. Blood. Like blood, 'This is inappropriate, Tyjo.'

'This is an elephant! Not your fucking fantasy! Shut up!'

'Oh, I'd be glad if you helped me.'

His words make Tyler so horny.  
Josh just makes Tyler super horny.

So, yeah, there is no problem and no black skinny jeans on Tyler anymore. Only Joshie's tongue. Back and forth. And he is all over him: wet and warm. And Tyler is happy.

For a moment.

Not right now obviously.

Now he stands there — against pale wall — picture in his hand. No Joshie inside him. Nothing is inside.

Just screaming kids and damn elephant-dick-tyler-has-no-clue in a red frame on which Ty can see dry drops of cum.

Fuck.

He cleans it up very promptly and _hello, Mr.Jackson. I brought you something_ and _I’m sure kids will like it, so colorful and vivid_. Surely, Tyler knows they won’t. Only Josh. There is only Josh to like him and all that grim from his skull.

Only Joshie.

Joshie he wants to kill. Something inside him wants.

His Joshie.

**III.**

Whom Tyler kills like every hour. Not in reality, of course. Just thinking.

Thinking and drawing. Too much of it. Too much of Tyler.

Honestly, he’s just lost in thoughts while paint brush moves on paper. Back and forth.

Blue spots. Red spots. Yellow lines. Tyler wanted to draw sunset with unusual hues, soaked in technology bleach of urban scene. He has no idea how he ended up with Josh’s corpse in the middle of a valley. Dark-rainbowed.

‘Tyty, I’m home,’ Josh gives voice from the hallway and Tyler throw glass full of water on the painting. Tyler might shit his pants. Tyler watches neon stains moving like rings in the water.

‘Are you here?’

Tyler yells, ‘Yeah.’

Tyler doesn’t think he is fully here.

If you know, what I mean.

**IV.**

‘Who are you really?’

It is all silent and cold. Except Tyler.

‘What the hell are you doing? Oh my god.’

Yes, he talks with himself. Often. When Joshie asked him yesterday, Tyler said _ugh, I’m okay, just overthinking all these…_

Tyler said. Then showed Josh a couple of new drawings. With dead Dun. Tyler making out with him there. And Josh did like it.

Jesus Christ, he did like it!

Well, it’s pretty fucked up but not critical, yeah? C’mon, everybody’s a bit of a pervert inside. The couple on the upper floor likes to play with milk and other food. Gross, right? But it was alright until someone leaked vid from their iCloud.

The point is experimenting is cool.

Sick as frick.

So, Josh probably would like to be a bit strangled. Just a little?

It is okay. Tyler’s fine with it.

Except one detail: he doesn’t remember this. There is no conversation, no dirty smirk and stroking Joshie, no new dark drawing in his head. There is nothing.

Tyler is a bit fucked up, right? Just a little.

He found that file on a laptop in a poor quality with awful sound. Them. Talking. Having sex. And it’d be okay. Well, if Josh wanted to record this.

Fine.

But he didn’t. Tyler asked. Then showed.

‘Man, stop messing with me. Just delete it.’

‘Fuck.’

‘Tyjo!’

Fuckfuckfuck.

‘Okay, but I didn’t—‘

‘For god’s sake, stop.’

Do you like when people refuse to believe you? When you tell them the truth.  
Yup, neither do Tyler.

**V.**

There are three files after a week. Twenty to the end of the March. Forty when Tyler’s fed up with Josh’s disbelief; so he doesn’t talk about it anymore.

Josh-I-Dun-Care.  
Or not.

At first he thought this was a coincidence and Josh hadn’t turn off web camera after a talk with Jordan on FaceTime. Then this theory was abandoned.

The next assumption wasn’t valid, too. There was no hacker, whom Tyler imagined as some crazy stalker. A friend of Josh said the laptop was clean: no connection with other webs, no virus, no potentially dangerous programs. Nothing.

Tyler tries to cover webcam with a folded sticker but laptop refuse to work in that case.

Letters appear on the screen:

**ERROR 404**

What the hell is that?!

‘Are you doing this?’ Tyler is mad at Josh. Because this isn’t funny anymore.

Josh says no.  
Josh says no, Tyler, I’ve told ya.

All this videos are creepy: Tyler drawing, Josh talking, they kissing, watching TV, drinking, even sleeping. Ty is still confused and can’t believe Josh. Things are more complicated between them now. Way more, more difficult. But Ty will figure it out. He always does. At least, he has hope.

Until reaching the last file in the folder.

No_Name_63

This is creepy, too; Tyler’s jaw drops somewhere, so low. God, how low. Because there is someone on the record. Someone has a knife. Someone is in this room. At night. Someone is standing above Josh, smiling and whispering something.

Someonesomeonesomeone.

Doing so many terrifying things. As licking Josh’s cheek and putting cold knife blade to it and.

Someone is Tyler.

**VI.**

  
He kills Josh in his dreams less frequently. To the end of spring Tyler barely has any nightmares at all. This is fine. This is good.

Except he hurting Joshie in reality now.

Tyler does damage mostly when they having sex: he doesn’t stretch Josh anymore, leaves scratches everywhere, bites him, cuts him, insults him. His Mad Head World is suffering from a great civil war.

But it is alright if you don’t look too closely.

He hates Josh. With all these chips and stupid mix of Sprite and Red Bull; Tyler can’t stand his dumb job at the local mall, his noisy friends, his ex, living in their neighborhood.

But this is not the worst thing, you see?

The worst is Tyler hates Josh for still loving him.  
Caring for him. Being Joshie.

And what could be more painful, right? What else?

Actually, there is a thing. Which you probably will hate because now you want these jerks to be together, right? I mean as a couple. And you want them to fuck at least one more time. Just to know how great it was.

I doubt you _really_ care.

And it’s great! Because Tyler doesn’t, too.

**VII.**

When summer ends he shares apartment with Josh. Still.

But they practically don’t talk or hang out: Tyler finds his own friends, Josh keeps sticking to old ones. New jobs. New lifes. And they pretend that they can safe _it all_.

Later.

‘Just… It’s not the right time,’ that’s what Josh said.

Usually he is the one to comment this whole situation; you know, feelings and stuff. Everything. Except videos or gaps in Tyler’s memory.

He convinces himself this is a mental breakdown. That simple.

Of course it’s not.

Normal-overcoming-emotional-and-mental-breakdowns-people don’t beat up guys in the block to fractures, don’t fuck guys and girls aside from their boy/girlfriends.

And no way they try to kill their own.

Well, like Tyler did three times in a row. One night. Almost burneddrownedchoked Josh is the result of the action.

So, for unknown reason, a man, who now avoids churches and anything holy except with addition «crap», can’t be burnt or bleed and his eyes sometimes turn red.

This is not a good sign.  
This will mean Tyler is dead.

If you know what I mean.

But there is new Tyler. Tyler with a plan, listening to walls creaking, emptiness howling inside his old flat they used to call home. There is no home. Not anymore. No Joshie.

I mean, Joshie he loved. None.  
Nope.

Or maybe — just think about it — there is no Tyler who loved Joshie.

Yeah, that’s more plausible.  
  
That’s why he is going to do that _thing_.

 

**VIII.**

Tyler wants to play a victim: tears watering his eyes, hands shaking, such a cheap fake. Do all possessed people do the same when they want to kill somebody?

Anyway, that’s what is going to happen.

He will wait for Josh to come home after work. He will pretend to be anxious and mad. He will.

Tyler will be sitting in the center of a room. Picture it. Paper all over the floor. Dust. Blood. Long damp scratches along his tights and hands.

Picture it. Right now.

Then Josh will enter the room.

Now that’s where we start to add a bit more colors: preferably red and black and yellowwhitegreengrey.

But never blue.

Never ever blue.

You will know why. Just… later.

So, let’s focus.

A dim light, old-fashioned posters and goosebumps on Josh’s neck because.

’What’s wrong?’

It’ll be okay. Okay.

Okay, Joshie, Tyler’ll be fine.

He’ll be fine, Josh.

He will be fucking fine. What will you want from him?!

‘Bae, did you forget to take your meds?’ and that’s all Josh will say.

He’ll look like an Albino with platinum blonde hair. He’ll look like a stranger to Tyler.

He also will talk strangely. He will walk strangely. His clothes will be too no-Joshie-style and this hoodie on one side and leggings under his shorts. His whole body won’t be Josh’s body anymore. Tyler just will feel it, aching somewhere inside ribs, curled into a thick itchy ball. Maybe just a change of heart, you know?

Yeah, awkwardly simple, right?

‘Are you okay?’

What a dumb question to ask as if Josh doesn’t seem himself. As if Tyler won’t’ be holding a razor blade in his hand.

‘Where is your pills?’ Josh’s tone will be detached. It’ll be cold. It will make Tyler almost cry like a baby without a candy while everyone else can have it.

‘I don’t want to take them. I’m just—’ will sound gingerly and a bit lower than his ordinary voice. Josh will think maybe Tyler’s throat is sore.

He’ll blink twice. The idea of pushing on Tyler won’t seem the best option. So Josh will change his tactic.

‘Man, it’s fine. Do you want to talk about it?’

He’ll play cool and calm and soft and.  
And nothing will happen.  
No tired smile on chapped lips, no kissing with bitter flour and saliva, no knowing look. None. There is none of it.

Josh’ll be triggered. Because, yes, there definitely will be something wrong.  
Josh will be trembling to the core of his being.

So he will ask one more time.  
And Tyler simply will say, ‘Nope.’

Tyler’ll think yespleaseomygodJoshie.

I mean the real one.

‘I won’t judge you or something.’

‘I know.’

Of course, he will be lying. Josh will get it. Josh will get that it is vital. They both do.

So, walls and the ceiling will be heavy and the air is like cement, creeping in every hole and scratching an atmosphere. And it’ll be leaking. It’ll be leaking everywhere.

Tyler’ll wish it was leaking in holes in his heart.

‘Tyler.’

There will be a moment and Josh will be sitting on the floor, fingers around razor blade and, wow, it’ll hurt. It shouldn’t be that way.

And Tyler, poor Tyler will pull his knees up to his chest. He’ll want to cry, though he will have a tactic. This is just a plan, you see. He will be cold-hearted.

Still he’ll want to mourn everything he has killed. C’mon, it is Tyler.

‘Your Mum called me. She wants us to come tomorrow: Maddy and her fiancé are going to celebrate engagement. It’s important and she wants you to be there.’

Hand will be on Tyler’s knee and back and forth, gentle fingers on a rough texture. He will be thinking.

He will be sinking.

And he will hate Josh talking.

Tyler’ll whisper, ‘Please, Joshie.’

‘She couldn’t reach up to you, so she asked me—‘

Tyler will mutter, ‘Omygodstop.’

‘I know you’re going through shitty times but Maddy’s your sister and—‘

Tyler will sob, ‘Joshie, I don’t love you anymore.’

Tyler will cry and Tyler will die inside. Old Tyler will.

‘We’re together now and I’ll help you to overcome this—‘

Then Tyler will almost scream, ‘Joshie, I don’t want you anymore.’ And this time he will hear. He will hear and shut up.

‘I’ve got tired of us, of…’

‘Me, I see.’

And now that’s how things will be: Josh is scared to death and Tyler sorta regrets it.

‘I want us to be friends, ugh, after all.’

This is so fucked up.

‘What?’

ManIdontwannahurtyou.

‘You should go,’ Josh will stare at him, stare and stare and stare.

And there will be silence. So much silence in this goddamn dusty room that Tyler will want to split his wrists.

But he won’t.

You know why already. You got it, right?

‘I can’t fucking believe it! I just—’

‘Josh, I want you to be happy and—’

‘Shut up!’ he will hum it like a melody, stuck in his head.

You understand it.  
You know that he won’t be able to help scrolling it over and over again for years. Well, at least.

Tyler knows, too. So he will be silent. He will be ashamed. He will feel like shit.

He will want to die and go to Hell.

And Josh’ll be there, near the sink, head between hands. He will smell like sorrow and pain, I guarantee that.

Is Tyler supposed to care? He is. Yeas, he is. But the point is he won’t give a shit.

No more.

‘It’s just like… Something is broken inside of me,’ these are the last words he will whisper in awe before closing the door.

‘He’s gone. He’s gone. He’s gone.’

And Josh will go to the bathroom. For the last time.  
And Tyler will go there, too.

You already know what for, right?

Tyler will kill Josh. Old Josh. You can picture like a mental razor blade on his wrists. Back and forth. And Josh’ll have no idea.

Josh’ll never know Tyler licked his blood like a hungry predator. Or maybe he will, but I’m not sure.

You see, I don’t know much about human death and life after it and this bullshitcrapfuckingrubbish.

Josh will never know Tyler is innocent. I mean, the real one.

Real Joseph won’t take out Joshie’s entrails and hung it like garland. Won’t chop off his lips and flush down the toilet. Or cut his blonde hair. Or eyes. Or wash in the bath full of his blood.

There will be new Josh. Josh like me.  
And real Josh will never know.

Because Josh’ll be dead, you see?

That’s for sure. He will.

You’re wondering now how can I know it? That’s awfully simple.

I’m not Tyler Joseph.

Technically.

But for you, yeah, I am Tyler: awkward piece of shit and coward. His body. His voice.

It’s nice to meet you.

It’s a pity you can’t see my eyes turn red. It is fucking beautiful.

Although you would be scared and there’d be that filthy feeling inside your chest and stomach. That’s good. I like you being afraid. My Josh won’t be. He’ll love this body.

Back to the theme.  
You got the story by email.

J will come home in fifteen minutes. I have to go. Make my story true.

But was it amusing? Did you like it? I’m not a cliche, right?

You like me and you are afraid of me. Because you already know.

Don’t you want it all to become yours? Don’t you want to think and be terrified? No.

That’s probably the end.

Yeah. Think so.

Oh, one more thing. I drop something in the email.

A new file is already on your computer.

I promise we’ll have some fun.

So, for now help yours truly and don’t tell anyone about this. Never. Pretend you haven’t read it.

Do how I say and don’t try to lie.

We’ll know when we come for you anyway.

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> thanks guys for reading  
> hope you liked it  
> and if there are any mistakes (of course there are!) let me know in the comments


End file.
